Should've Known Better
by McRaider
Summary: Post The Firefly episode: The time in between poor Peter's seizure and his father's chicken and rosemary soup


**Should've Known Better**  
**McRaider**  
**Summary:** Post The Firefly episode: The time in between poor Peter's seizure and his father's chicken and rosemary soup  
**Author's Note**: I recently discovered Fringe after spending far too much debating whether to get into it or not. I decided now that it's over I'd go ahead and enjoy it. This was one of my personal favorite episodes

Olivia felt Peter's muscles relax and slowly stop seizing, "I think he's stabilizing," she told Walter over the phone. She looked at him to see his body finally go limp and his breathing begin to slow. She heard Walter hang up, as she began to slowly rub where she'd jabbed him in the thigh.

She wondered if she should call for an ambulance, but knew that Walter would be back soon. "Liv?" he groaned, he was still breathing heavily, suddenly he turned and began to vomit. She felt awful just watching his already abused body take on more abuse. She held him, rubbing his back as he finally collapsed.

"You had a reaction to some milk in your father's fridge, how do you feel?" She asked as he tried to slowly stand, his legs shaking, it was clear he still wasn't feeling well. The door opened just as she sat him in a nearby chair.

"Nausea," he answered in a rasp.

"Peter!" Walter came hurrying over to his son, "Are you all right, son?" He looked absolutely terrified over what had happened. He must have noticed his son starting to looking gray and reached out to grab a nearby trashcan as his son dry heaved over the trashcan.

"I need to take some blood samples. Peter, do you want to stay here, or would you prefer to lie down?"

"Lie down," he groaned.

Walter nodded, with the help of Astrid and Walter, Peter was moved slowly over to one of the gurneys, where they laid him on his side. "Astrid, would you mind getting me a blanket and an ice pack for the goose-bump on his temple."

"Of course."

"I'm going to call Broyles, I'll let him know you two are out of commission for the next couple days." Olivia offered, it was clear she was irritated with Walter, but kept it to herself.

"Thank you, Agent Dunham for saving his life."

"I shouldn't have had to. But you're welcome," and with that she left.

Walter looked down at his son and soothingly ran his fingers through the young man's hair, tears in his eyes, "I'm sorry, son."

Peter shook his head, "Should've known...not safe to drink or eat certain things. It's fine," he slurred as he began to dip off from exhaustion.

Astrid watched from afar as Walter dropped a kiss to his son's head. She smiled sadly. She understood certain things that sometimes Olivia didn't. When it came to Peter, Walter was as blind as he could be. Thirty or not, Peter was still Walter's baby boy.

"Here," she whispered as she handed the blanket to Walter. They left Peter like that for a few more hours, until the blood results were back to normal and he appeared to be fine except for some aches.

"I can drive you home if you'd like," Astrid offered as Peter sat up slowly.

"It's fine, we'll be okay, thanks." He whispered.

His arm around his center he and his father headed towards the exit and their car. Peter winched the whole way to the car, sitting down in the seat and a few times as they made their way home. Walter could see his son wasn't going to make it to his bed for awhile, so he helped him get comfortable on the couch and got him an ice pack for his head. "Get some rest son, are you hungry?"

"Mmm, a little," Peter replied, already starting to fade into the exhaustion.

Walter paused at the edge of the couch, staring at his boy. Somedays fatherhood still awed him, even after thirty odd years he'd fallen in love with this boy from the moment they placed the infant in his arms. Even now he still couldn't fathom how much he loved his son some days. "Thinkin' too hard," mumbled Peter.

Walter smiled as he reached out and caressed his son's cheek with the back of his hand. "Maybe," he whispered. "I really am sorry, son."

Peter shook his head, groaning at the pain it caused, "Don't be. Not your fault."

"I don't want to lose you again, son," his eyes brimming with tears.

Peter gave him a weak smile, "I don't want to either, Walter. So stop trying to fix your brain."

Walter smiled as he stood and hurried into the kitchen, away from his son and the emotions.

"Love you too," Peter mumbled as he drifted off again.

The End


End file.
